


Kiss and Make Up

by EJWalters



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, angsty angst, but then fluffy at the end, cuz yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 00:22:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EJWalters/pseuds/EJWalters
Summary: Aziraphale sighed. Time for something desperate. “Well, if those things aren’t reason enough for you to leave me alone, perhaps this is. I hate you, Crowley.”He chuckled, “No you don’t, Angel. You’ve just been told that you do.”“No. I well and truly hate you. I don’t know why I’ve allowed you to follow me around like a lost puppy all these centuries. Perhaps I’ve found it amusing.”





	Kiss and Make Up

Crowley parked the Bentley outside of the bookshop and got out of the car before sauntering to the door and walking inside.

“Angel!” he called, announcing his presence.

There was a pause before an annoyed response came from somewhere amongst the bookshelves, “I told you. Not today, Crowley!”

Crowley rolled his eyes and flopped onto the couch he frequently occupied, “I just came by to see how you were doing, relax.”

“You couldn’t call to do that?” Aziraphale toddled into his line of sight, arms full of books, “I told you, they’re watching. You shouldn’t come over for a while.”

“Let them watch,” Crowley said dismissively.

“If either side finds out that we’re- that we regularly see eachother,we’ll both be in trouble,” Aziraphale huffed.

“They won’t find out, Angel. Trust me.”

Aziraphale internally winced at what he knew he had to say as he put a book in to bed in its proper place, “Trust you? You’re a demon. How is an angel supposed to trust a demon?”

“You’ve trusted me before. Why can’t you now?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “You’ve been a demon this whole time, Crowley. How am I to know that I’m not an assignment from your head office?”

“What? Like they told me to annoy you all this time, or to- to seduce you?” Crowley asked incredulously.

“Well, yes. Precisely.”

Crowley scoffed, “Right. Because they’re smart enough to think of that. They don’t know a thing, Angel.”

“How can you be sure?” Aziraphale asked.

“Because they’d burn your shop with hellfire if they knew and they’d probably drown me in holy water.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not. I’m being realistic.”

Aziraphale sighed. Time for something desperate. “Well, if those things aren’t reason enough for you to leave me alone, perhaps this is. I hate you, Crowley.”

He chuckled, “No you don’t, Angel. You’ve just been told that you do.”

“No. I well and truly hate you. I don’t know why I’ve allowed you to follow me around like a lost puppy all these centuries. Perhaps I’ve found it amusing.”

“Lost puppy?” Crowley balked, “If anyone’s a lost puppy, it’s you. ‘Crowley, come save me! I’m locked in the Bastille and I’m about to be beheaded! Crowley, I’ve got paint on my jacket, help me jet it off!’” Crowley mocked, “Pathetic, really.”

Aziraphale could practically see the blood dripping from the emotional wounds he was inflicting on his friend, “Well, you would know whether or not I’m pathetic, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh?”

He hoped Crowley would forgive him someday, “Yes. Seeing how you’re pathetic incarnate,” he winced to himself at how weak an insult that was.

Crowley was unreadable, “Right. Well, I’ll see you around. Hope you trip in a lake or choke on a rock or something.” He got up and left the shop.

They wouldn’t see eachother or speak to eachother for twenty years after that, and even when they finally did see eachother, it was purely coincidence.

Crowley was in a shop, looking for Halloween decorations to put up in her flat. She was debating on a fancy skull decoration, when he spotted a familiar pattern of tartan. She dropped the skull into the trolley and walked away from the body wearing the tartan as fast as she could.

“Crowley?”

She froze, not sure what to do.

“Crowley, is that you?”

No escaping it now. She had definitely been spotted. She glanced back and saw a nervous Aziraphale with a sad, tentative smile on his face.

“Aziraphale. Hi,” she said as passively as possible, even though her heart was hammering in her chest, as though it were about to leap out and make a run for it.

“I’ve been meaning to call you, I just, I erm. Well, I just couldn’t get up the courage to,” Aziraphale said nervously.

_ “I hate you, Crowley,” _ the sentence echoed in her head like a scratched record that kept skipping.

“Right.”

“Well, um, I wanted to apologize about that day, you see. I didn’t mean what I said, then. Perhaps, if you wanted to, that is, we could go back to the shop and you could let me explain?” 

_ “How could an angel trust a demon?” _ a good question indeed.

Crowley leaned against the bar of the trolley, “You made yourself very clear on your feelings of me and my kind, Aziraphale.”

“Yes. I-I suppose I did. But so did you. Although, you were reacting from pain where as I was speaking from desperation.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Desperation?”

“As I said, perhaps you would allow me to explain?”

Everything in her screamed at her to tell him to go jump off a bridge or something, but inexplicably, she found herself saying, “Yeah. Yeah okay. Let me check out first?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Of course.”

At the shop, Aziraphale offered Crowley a drink. To the surprise of both parties, she declined, lounging on the couch in her usual spot.

“Cut to the chase, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, well, the day before our argument, Gabriel appeared and told me he would have you executed if I kept seeing you. So I made sure he would see what he wanted,” Aziraphale explained.

“And, what? You couldn’t just tell me so that we could figure it out together?” Crowley asked.

“I was afraid, Crowley!”

“Of what?”

“Of losing you, you idiot!”

Crowley blinked, “Of… of…”

“Yes. I was afraid I was going to lose you.”

She stood up and walked towards Aziraphale, who was on the virge of tears, “You could never lose me, Angel.”

Aziraphale looked up at her, “How can you be so sure?”

Crowley smirked, “Because if anyone tries to take me away from you, I’ll fight like hell.”

He gave a small smile, “You would,” and sniffed.

“Yes. I would.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley’s mouth for a moment before muttering, “Fuck it,” and kissing him gently.

Crowley smiled against his lips and muttered a “Finally,” against them before pulling him closer to her.


End file.
